


Andar's Dream

by Merlin Missy (mtgat)



Category: Justice League
Genre: Academia, F/M, Folklore, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-04
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:17:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtgat/pseuds/Merlin%20Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing says "Exciting story!" like "An academic presentation on Thanagarian anthropology."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Andar's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: DC owns the setting and such. I'm just playing Barbies in the dollhouse.
> 
> Thanks go to XFfan2000 and BillA1 for their initial audiencing of this thing. Extra special doubleplusgood thanks go out to Pollylynn, without whose assistance I would have committed even more crimes against science and good taste.

" ... With dozens of possible applications, as you can see from this chart." *click* The slide changed, showing a detailed chart of potential uses for the data that had just been presented.

Mentally, Chada swore. Again. Her supervisor had given her this "opportunity" because, he'd claimed, she needed practice speaking in front of funding committees if she intended to pursue a civilian science career. Chada wasn't stupid. He'd given her this chore because he knew her chances of success were about as large as a _talbin's_ in a firestorm, and he didn't want his name attached any closer than necessary to her imminent failure. The war — and when weren't they at war? — meant short funding for any research not directly related to defeating the Gordanians.

She studied her notes again as Dr. Pras took questions from the audience. She tried to focus on her own data and not pay attention to the speaker's enthusiastic reassurances that yes, his coherent light machine could be turned into a weapon.

It was bad enough to be scheduled as the last presenter before the dinner break on the final day of the symposium, but worse, now she had to follow someone with a good presentation and actual military applications for his research. Pras was getting applause, not just by the other scientists in the room, but also by the military representative.

Chada felt sick.

"Thank you, Dr. Pras," said the coordinator, as Pras gathered his materials and returned to his seat. "Our last presentation this afternoon is by Dr. Chada Hral, who will be discussing," he squinted at the notecard in the dim light, "Anthropological Evidence of Genetic Manipulation: a New Analysis of Andar's Dream."

Chada approached the front of the room, accompanied by polite applause.

"Good afternoon, respected colleagues, friends, Lieutenant Tak. I know everyone wants to get to dinner, so I'll try to keep this brief." The military representative gave her a curt nod.

"As many of you know, there has long been a debate in anthropological circles regarding the so-called 'missing link.'" She clicked on a slide, "This is what people generally refer to as a 'Cave Thanagarian.' We have catalogued its genome from remains found at ancient burial sites. While there is obviously a connection to the genetic code of modern Thangarians, the differences clearly delineate us as separate species."

The picture was good, she had to admit. An artist friend had drawn the primitive for her: two heads shorter than a modern Thanagarian, covered in reddish feathers, wings, legs, no arms. Her friend had outdone himself with the expression on the feathered face, capturing both savagery and a glint of intelligence.

"This of course is a modern Thanagarian." She'd considered using a photograph of herself or Dr. Halas, but in the end she'd asked her friend to draw another image, this one presenting strength and nobility. She'd given him a recruitment poster from the military office next to her building, and the resemblance between the man in the sketch and the one on the poster was not coincidental. Nor was the crest on his family helm.

Over a few glasses of cheap berry wine, she'd asked her friend to "increase the pompousness about ten percent," and he'd gone through sketch after sketch in his tiny loft, asking her "stern enough this time, or should I up the retentiveness a notch?" And when they'd settled on a suitable picture, and drunk enough wine, they'd put the sketches aside and made good use of his small bed.

Her third slide showed the two pictures together. "We have speculated for years that there must be some missing member of the family between these two species." She showed a third picture, a speculative drawing of a modern Thanagarian with a primitive face and proto-appendages for arms, all covered in down.

"However, a recent discovery leads us to believe that this was not the case, that in fact modern Thanagarians came directly from primitive Thanagarians in one or two generations."

There was a stir in the audience. At least she had their attention now.

She clicked on a new slide. Several members of the audience hissed, others gasped, and the stir became a quiet but angry buzz.

"This tablet was discovered in the ruins of Edsid ten years ago. It is remarkably well-preserved for its age, as you can see. We have dated the carving to approximately ten thousand years ago."

The many-tentacled being emanated evil, even from just a photograph of the tablet, and Chada shuddered to herself as she looked at it.

"I'll assume you are all familiar with the legends surrounding Icthultu." Not ten days before, another cell of Icthultu cultists had been routed from their mountainside dwelling. While religious worship was not expressly forbidden by law, worship of Icthultu almost always involved stockpiling weaponry and talk of overthrowing the military. Chada hadn't the faintest idea why.

"According to legend, Icthultu gave us agriculture, government, philosophy, everything that separates us from the primitives we were. What is not generally known is that the genetic transition from primitive to modern Thanagarians also took place while Icthultu was in power."

Chada changed the slide to another tablet. "Edsid has been a valuable site. We discovered this tablet about a year ago. The fragment tells the story of Andar's Dream." She paused. "The _rest_ of Andar's Dream."

The audience made more noise. She smiled.

Andar was a folk hero, really _the_ folk hero of Thanagarian legend. He was given credit for leading the rebellion against Icthultu, for gathering the warring tribes of Thanagarians after Icthultu's departure and bringing them together under one stable government. His exploits were relegated to fodder for children's stories these days, but as such, everyone knew them.

"As any nestling can tell us, Andar's love was Paran, the most beautiful woman in their village. But when the time came for the yearly tribute to Icthultu, Paran was chosen to be the sacrifice, and for all that Andar fought, he could not save her from being consumed by the bright fire. He was banished from his village to protect it from Icthultu's wrath at his defiance." Nods from the audience. Chada knew a number of them had children, perhaps had told this same story themselves. "While he wandered in the wastelands, Andar had a dream. He ascended to the floating city where he found Paran's spirit trapped, along with many others who had been sacrificed to Icthultu."

Chada had considered including the usual details about Andar's golden shoes, the helpful reptile, and the string that went on for miles, but she'd decided that, while quaint, and possibly yielding valuable insight into cultural mores of later Thanagarians who'd retold the stories, they were not in fact relevant to her discussion.

"The story says that Andar also found a room of 'bald men.'" For fun, Chada had included a picture of a bald male Thanagarian. "Some people have speculated that these were elderly Thanagarians, and that since Andar noticed them but did not attempt to rescue them, this was cultural permission to kill off the elderly once they were past their age of usefulness. A more modern reading suggests this was symbolic of Andar shrugging off the old ways of submission to Icthultu in order to set up a new order."

She risked another glance to the audience. Lieutenant Tak looked a bit bored.

"This tablet, as I said, includes previously a unknown portion of Andar's Dream. According to the tablet, Andar talked to the bald men, demanding to know their houses and families. But the men spoke only gibberish that Andar could not understand."

She clicked on a close-up of the tablet. "This passage, translated, says: 'The tallest bald man came to Andar, his face gone pale like death, and he touched Andar's wings and his mouth moved but he did not speak his strange tongue again. The other bald men fell to their knees and spoke but Andar did not know their words, and fled from their strange baldness.'"

She clicked back to the full tablet. "The tablet then continues with the familiar story of Andar finding and releasing Paran's spirit from torment. It also includes mention of Haldel the bald man who became Andar's friend."

Another close-up. "Paran is described here as also being 'bald.' This is the only copy of the tale we have ever found that includes the meeting with the bald men, and the description as Paran as similarly 'bald.'"

She changed the slide. "We found this tablet two weeks ago. We believe it is intended to be a representation of Andar, Paran, and Haldel, as this is the standard arrangement of the three in classical sculpture."

The tablet and its implications had robbed her of sleep ever since the students had excavated it: a modern man ascendant with a mask and crown, the traditional place of Andar, and beneath him as if they were a triangle, a masked woman in robes and a maskless man, the traditional portrayals of Paran and Haldel.

"As you can see, this stone is also in stunning condition for its age, which we have dated to be within one or two generations of Icthultu's departure. It was sculpted within living memory of Andar himself, if such a man ever actually existed, and thus also within living memory of Paran and Haldel."

She clicked on another closeup of the man and woman at the bottom of the triangle.

"You will notice both are depicted with hair, and neither with wings."

Chada paused a moment, allowing this to sink into her audience, while she gazed at the female figure. Paran had not been a cultural hero. She'd been brought back from death by her lover, and been made a queen, and most of what was known about her was her name and the names of her squabbling sons. Andar was known for his accomplishments, even Haldel was remembered for being wise, but Paran was just there to be rescued. It didn't seem fair.

"Ancient Thanagarian has many words which we do not have precise meanings for, including the word '_khack-toe_,' a word we have previously translated as 'bald.' If we assume that '_khack-toe_' means 'wingless,' we find a number of instances in the older literature where certain passages begin to make sense. For example, many legends of Andar and Haldel remark that Haldel did not fly. No mention is ever made of Paran flying after her rescue.

"What's more, genetic anomalies abound in samples collected from the earliest settlements of modern Thanagarians. Drs. Tana and Kald discovered an unusually high amount of genetic variance between villages among the archaeological samples they studied." She showed another picture, this one summarizing Tana and Kald's data. "Such genetic distance would usually be explained by isolation, but some of these villages are less than a kilometer apart. Factoring in intermarriage between villages, the differences are even more striking."

The lieutenant looked even more bored. _Now or never_ Chada told herself.

"We have reason to believe that these variations were due to genetic manipulations by Icthultu. We believe that the 'sacrifices' were actually taken to another location, possibly a spacecraft, where experiments were performed. Different villages were clearly used as experimental groups for different protocols. Successful experiments survived to breed the changes into the species at large."

She changed the slide. This one showed a modern Thanagarian, much like the man from the recruitment poster, with one conspicuous absence. "We believe the stories about the 'bald men' indicate Andar met someone like this fellow whose genome was merged, either via manipulation or forced breeding, with that of primitive Thanagarians to produce what we consider the modern Thanagarian species."

She showed a slide with the primitive Thanagarian and the wingless man, with the modern Thanagarian below them, as she might show a family lineage.

"Take a look. This is your great-great-grandfather, ten thousand years removed."

The lieutenant stood. Chada bit her lip. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "What are you attempting to accomplish with this little show?"

"Sir," she said. "I am trying to discover the origin of our species. The data we have suggests traits from a completely different genome were deliberately introduced into primitive Thanagarian populations. Some may not even have been native to Thanagar. The '_khack-toe_' men appear to be our closest relatives, after the so-called 'Cave Thanagarians.' I believe that, if we excavate Edsid further, we could find more data to support this theory."

"_Theory_?" sneered the lieutenant. "You tell us children's stories and call them theories?"

"Sir, children's stories often contain grains of history. Lastra's Doll, the King of the Clocks … "

"And I'm sure Ful actually found a talking reptile in his shoe?"

She forged ahead. "I admit these stories are heavily shrouded in fantastic elements. Nevertheless, Andar was almost certainly a historical personage, and Haldel … "

"'Haldel Haldel had no hair,'" Tak recited. "It's a nursery rhyme, Doctor. Not a scientific theory."

"We have evidence."

"You have a poorly-carved stone tablet and you have speculation. Furthermore, you have no purpose."

"Sir?"

"If I bring your theory to Dr. Dul asking for funding, first she will berate me for taking up her time with nursery rhymes, and then she will ask me how this could possibly be used for any practical benefit. What do you think I should tell her, Doctor Hral?" In the darkened room, Chada could just make out his smirk. "Shall I tell her Paran was bald and that our grandparents had no wings? How do you think she will react?"

Chada rallied her last defense. "Dr. Dul is a woman of science. Surely she can understand the beauty of pure research for the sake of the thing we have yet to imagine."

"I think you'll find that isn't her job. Nor is it mine. Thank you, Doctor."

"Lieutenant, I ... "

"Your presentation is finished. And we are late for dinner." The lieutenant stood and walked out, leaving Chada to stand in the front of the room, red embarrassment all over her face. The others left the presentation room in pairs and threes, a few casting sympathetic glances her way, until she was alone with her supervisor.

"That went well," Dr. Halas said, finally.

"You know I'm right."

"I know we'll know more when Tana and Kald get the genetic data back on that wingless skeleton we found in the burial chamber."

"It's Haldel."

"Or it's another misfortunate fool who lost his wings in battle."

"The structures of the spine and shoulders are completely wrong. Anyone with a basic knowledge of anatomy ... "

" ... Will tell us that children are born without wings from time to time, the poor things. We'll know when we see the genetic data. It's a pity we didn't have it to present today, but maybe we'll have something more solid by the next funding meeting."

"That's a year away. How are we going to fund the dig?"

"We'll find a way."

"But ... "

"Go home, Chada. Relax. We'll discuss funding tomorrow." He offered a wave and left. She gathered her notes, packed them into her bag. _We'll find a way. We._ At least she hadn't been fired yet.

Outside, the sun was getting ready to set. Kast lounged against a balcony post, a smile on his handsome face. "Didn't buy it, did they?"

"I think they liked your pictures."

"Those military types are all the same, you know. If they can't use it to blow something up or bash someone over the head, they don't want to hear about it." He'd been letting his hair grow and it curled at the edges of his mask. She wanted to brush it away from his face, but knew the gesture would be pointless.

"You find it fascinating, right?" Chada stood at the edge. He joined her, took her free hand. Both jumped, catching the air after a few feet and gliding, without discussing it, towards his place. "I mean, this is meaning of life stuff. Where we come from. Who we are. Someone's going to find a use for this information someday. I know it." She sighed. "If the war goes well. If the Gordanians don't overrun us and annihilate us. Somebody someplace is going to think this is the most fascinating discovery of all time."

"Bit full of yourself, aren't you?" But he was smiling at her as he said it, and she was pretty sure he had another bottle of wine waiting for them back home.

The wind rushed by, and she was alone with her own thoughts. There had been a species just like them; maybe they were out there still if Icthultu really did have interstellar capabilities. Thanagarians might have, not siblings, but distant cousins, somewhere among the stars. If first contact went well, friends possibly, even potential allies if she wanted to think like the earnest young lieutenant.

Knowledge like that? Potential like that? A union of two species so long separated, united by a common past?

That'd be ... priceless.  



End file.
